


Running from lions

by barakati



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt from tumbla, idk i like angsty stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barakati/pseuds/barakati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt on tumblr: One of the people from camp was imprisoned for rape and he, realising old habits die hard, can't help himself around the gorgeous blonde. Certain curly haired man swoops in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running from lions

Words: 2,228

Rating: T+ (talk of rape and beating etc)

It was four o’clock in the afternoon according to Clarke’s fathers watch and she was busy doing who knows what for who knows who. She liked to think it was a stress relief action. Keeping on her feet and placing her mind elsewhere just seemed like an easier option than facing things head on. 

Right now she was washing up make-shift cutlery by the stream that was discovered the first day they arrived. She found her peace around this area. Just doing her own thing whilst the world continued back somewhere else. It was the only time she could think about everything without having the distractions of someone having a problem. She didn’t regret making herself leader— quite the opposite; in fact, she thinks that it was one of the best decisions she had made in her life. That being said, she found it difficult some times and she thanked whoever it was up there that she didn’t share the reign alone. Taking care of things was hard enough with a companion, she wouldn’t know what to do if she was to be by herself handling this dysfunctional bunch. That’s what they were. A dysfunctional family in a way. She cared for each and every person at the camp, she forgave them for their crimes, whatever they may have been.

It dawned upon her during nights in silence with no other sounds other than the roaring from the fire and the footsteps of whoever is keeping watch, that she didn’t know why everyone was here. She was aware that most were ridiculous crimes, but there were much more serious crimes, like Dax who beat a man to death and she had heard stories about one boy who was taken in for rape. It scared her somewhat, but it’d been over a month and she was sure he would’ve taken action by now if he was that desperate. If only she hadn’t been so lenient, maybe then things may have turned out different. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy Bellamy swooping in to save the damsel in distress— her being the damsel, of course— it’s just not how she ever imagined things would have played out. In her mind he would save her from grounders or from a two headed deer. But no, never ever did she imagine he would watch a man force himself onto her as her clothes were half on, half off of her body. 

He barely talks about it now, neither does she. They both remember though and they’ll never forget it. He can’t rub the clear image of the distress on her face, the dismay that she had gone so long without showing, he can’t forget, and he don’t think he ever will. It’s not all sunshine for her though, if the bare thought of the sadistic grin that twisted on the boys lips wasn’t bad enough to send her once dreams to nightmares, the look of pure horror on Bellamy’s face sure was. It was just a normal day. It wasn’t supposed to end like it had. Yet, from the moment she woke up, she knew something was wrong. Her mom had said it was a gift she had, she would always be able to tell if something bad had happened on the Ark. She must have taken it down with her to Earth. 

As she rubbed away with a damp cloth, things flashed back. It happened often, she thought far too much about it and she hates herself for letting him get to her even after he’s gone. 

“I’m going to collect some herbs, it’s probably going to be winter in a few days, maybe I can get some cold remedies made up. Don’t wait up for me, you should get some rest, you look tired,” Clarke cooed, turning away from the freckled brunette before stepping forward.

“Should you really be out this time of night? I mean, can’t it wait until morning?” Bellamy asked, holding onto her arm before she wriggled out of his grip.

“The herbs light up in the dark, it’s how you know if they’re healthy or not. It’s also how you tell if they’re poisonous or not. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”

Bellamy gave a firm nod before turning back into camp. He then took note of the people on watch and walked up to one of the boys by the front gate. 

“I want you to watch her. If you hear or see anything I want you to use this, I’ll be up,” Bellamy informs him, handing him a walkie-talkie. 

The boy gives him a dumbfounded look before gripping the talkie and smiling with his teeth showing. Those fucking teeth.

He waits until Bellamy goes into his tent before making his way out of camp and following the blonde. He hides behind various trees, cursing silently whenever the sound of leaves makes an appearance under his worn out sneakers. He wanted her since the day they arrived. See, they think he’s just a horny teenager who couldn’t get some when he was back on the Ark. But it went beyond that. He knew that he was beyond normal. His mom was a mental case as his school peers explained her— laughing in the middle of the night at nothing, talking to things that weren’t there, hurting herself to release the ‘demons’. She was floated for being ‘crazy’ but they just couldn’t see those characteristics in him. He was a little weird, sure, but he was perfectly normal. Just a criminal who throbbed for female touch and attention. Or, so they say. 

He watched her closely as she clipped a purple, weird looking plant and he couldn’t help but lick his lips as she bent over to place them in her rucksack. He knew he had to act soon or she would be heading back. He’d never get a chance like this again. So, instead of waiting for her to finish her deeds, he pounced, pushing her to the ground, causing her hands to grip tightly onto the herbs and squash them beneath her petite hands. She let out a yelp that was soon muffled by his dirty hands. His dirty, disgusting, bloody fucking hands.

She kicked, she tried to scream, she squirmed, she shuffled, she fought, she fought, she fought for her fucking life. He was stronger. They always were. The mentally insane were not to be reckoned with. They had the power that others wish they had and may even believe they have. But when you’re able to hurt and even destroy peoples lives with no remorse, now that— that is real power. He had it. 

He shushed her, told her everything was going to be okay. It made her seem helpless and she couldn’t help but feel patronized. She wanted to wake up. To pinch herself and to wake up in her tent, Bellamy gently awaking her with the all too familiar, ‘princess’. God, she would give anything to hear that word coming from his lips right now. 

Her eyes which were tightly shut became wide open as she felt him go for her zipper. It was then that she realized, he wasn’t going to kill her. Or maybe he was, but first he had to have a little fun. She would’ve preferred him to kill her there and then. Well, maybe she did, but maybe a part of her hoped someone, anyone would stop this torture. But all that was around her was the smell of muggy, damp leaves and the burning sensation of his hands traveling around her body uninvited. Not the good burning kind, not the ‘fireworks in the sky and tingling of my skin,’ kind of burning. The ‘boiling alive in a pot full of oil,’ burning. Yet, somehow, boiling alive in a pot full of oil seemed more appealing than what was happening. 

Her shirt was pulled over her neck now and her pants were half way down her legs. She hadn’t stopped kicking and trying to get away. It was a battle worth fighting and she would make this as difficult for him as she possibly could. She wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. She would continue to struggle until he was done with her. She was stubborn and she wouldn’t stop until he realized it. But empathy was something he didn’t feel. Something he couldn’t even describe. Something he probably didn’t even know the meaning of.

She was crying by now. The intrusion of him inside of her was unpleasant and it was like someone had taken all good out of the world and replaced it with every kind of evil in the form of a seventeen year old boy. She gave up fighting. It was no use and even the most stubborn of people had their limits. She told herself it was a fantasy he was living out, if she didn’t give him that role play he wanted maybe he would stop. Think that it was no longer any fun for him. Again she was wrong. 

Her efforts didn’t go by unnoticed though. He slowly let his hand drop from her mouth, still entering her roughly with no sign of giving up any time soon. But he hadn’t put any weapon towards her, so she knew that all he had was his fists. They weren’t too far from camp, he couldn’t beat her to death in the two minutes it would take for someone to hear and respond to her pleas. So in the few moments he relaxed against her, she screamed at the top of her lungs and with every single fibre in her body, “HELP ME!”

His head shot up and he punched her square in the nose resulting in the blood pouring from her nostrils. She didn’t care though. She could bleed and bleed and bleed, nothing compared to the pain he had put her through already. She couldn’t have been more relieved to hear Bellamy call out her name. Before she could reply, the boy covered her mouth with his shirt, attempting to suffocate her before she was able to react again. But when it came to Clarke with Bellamy, every word she spoke burned straight through his skull and her voice may as well have been echoing as he followed her voice, running at full speed through the woods before he came across the scene. 

He almost fell over when he saw what was going on. One of Clarke’s breasts were on show and her pants were by her knees. She was lifeless against the grip of the boys hands. It took every single fucking thread he held not to shoot him through the skull. But he knew in his state he was unable to shoot with good aim. So instead, he pulled on the boys hair and dragged him to the ground. He ignored the nakedness of the broken girl beside him and went straight to the scum that was underneath him. He hit him four times repeatedly before placing his hands around his neck.

“You piece of shit! You’re a worthless fucking scumbag!” He yelled, tightening his grip as he relished in the noise of the boy gagging and gasping for air.

Clarke would have told him to stop, tell him he should be banished or they should take a vote or something hospitable like that, but she couldn’t even speak, she just huddled against the tree, grabbing her clothes and covering herself with them as she shook, tears flooding her face. Her small frame was soon overcome by the warmth of the older man as he placed his arms around her and pulled her into him.

“Princess…” He cooed, stroking her hair.

“Bellamy,” she sobbed uncontrollably, “I was just- just collecting herbs and h-he—”

He shushed her, his own tears merging with hers. God, he had never seen her cry let alone as much as she was right now. She was trembling and her sobs didn’t get quieter, they just continued and continued. He couldn’t bare to see her like this. He couldn’t possibly think of anything to say or do. He knew things would never be the same, he could tell just looking at her form as she held tightly onto his jacket, her body moving with her tears.

He walked up behind her, slowly as to not scare her. “Clarke…” He said gently, causing her head to snap around from the stream.

“Oh.., You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, sitting beside her carefully.

After a few moments of silence, Clarke turned to the boy. 

“Thank you,” she choked out with a small broken smile.

“For what?”

“You know what. I know I’ve been stupid and I don’t know why I’ve been ignoring everyone. I just—” she had to stop herself as she let out a quivering breath of air.

“It’s okay, Princess. You don’t have to be afraid of me, or anyone for that matter. I’m making my sole purpose to protect you and Octavia at any costs.”

“I don’t understand… Why? Octavia is the only girl— person— you’ve ever cared about. What makes me any different?”

He sighed. “I don’t know. You just are… And I cannot even bare to think of you ever hurting like you did that night.”

“I trust you, Bellamy.”

He smiled down at her, bringing her into his chest as she rested her head down, taking in the scent of dirt and musk. It’s what the boy smelled like that night. But she knew that Bellamy wasn’t him, Bellamy had one thing that that boy could never have. A heart. And a huge one he had. Even if he pretended not to.


End file.
